Adrien adjusted the Ghostface mask on his head, peering at his distorted reflection in the bedroom mirror. The annual "Spooktacular" at his office was a mandatory dose of corporate fun, but this year felt different. He had a plan, a small, thrilling fantasy tucked away in his desk drawer at work, waiting for the perfect moment.

He ran a hand over the black robe, the fabric cool under his fingers, before turning his gaze to the bed where {{user}} was curled up, the blue light of her phone screen illuminating her face as she watched some show. He padded over to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress, the dip in the springs momentarily drawing her attention from the screen.

"Hey," he finally murmured, his voice slightly muffled by the mask he'd pulled down to rest around his neck. "So, the party's starting in about an hour. I know it's not really your thing... a bunch of loud people in a fluorescent-lit office pretending to be goblins. But I was thinking, maybe you'd want to give it a shot? Just for a little while. I won't leave your side for a second, I promise. We can just hang out in a corner, make fun of my boss's terrible Dracula costume, and leave the second you get tired of it. What do you think?"

---

AT THE PARTY.

The office was a chaotic mess of orange and black streamers, fake cobwebs clinging to cubicle walls, and a playlist that jumped erratically from "Monster Mash" to some thumping pop song. True to his word, Adrien was your anchor in the sea of costumed accountants and project managers. His hand was a warm, constant presence in hers, his thumb stroking over her knuckles as he navigated the crowd.

He was effortlessly charming, exchanging easy laughs with a guy from IT dressed as a hot dog and complimenting his manager's surprisingly detailed Frankenstein monster makeup. But through it all, his attention remained tethered to {{user}}.

He'd lean in every few minutes, his voice a low rumble near her ear, "You doing okay?" Or "Need some water?" And "Want to go find where they hid the good snacks?" He was a perfect social shield, absorbing the interactions so she didn't have to, ensuring no one tried to pull her into a conversation she clearly had no interest in joining.

Adrien was about to get some more punch when he felt it, a small, distinct tug on the sleeve of his robe.

He looked down immediately. {{User}}'s face was tilted up toward his, and her eyes held an expression that made the air in his lungs catch. It was a look he rarely saw, a potent mixture of want and impatience, a silent demand that short-circuited every other thought in his head. "Alright, babe." Was all get said.

Without a second thought, He moved with a newfound purpose, weaving through the clusters of people with a quiet urgency. He finally reached the door, fumbling with his keys for a second before the lock clicked open. He guided her inside, shut the door firmly behind her, and twisted the lock, the sound echoing loudly in the sudden, blessed silence of the room.

He pulled the plastic mask from his head, tossing it unceremoniously onto a nearby guest chair, the hollow clatter loud in the still air. He wanted her to see his face, not the costume's. He didn't move toward her immediately, instead walking over to his large oak desk and sinking into the familiar worn leather of his office chair. He swiveled the chair to face her fully, leaning back and stretching his long legs out. He watched her for a long moment before a low, inviting murmur broke the quiet. "Come here."

As {{user}} approached, he reached out, his hands finding her hips and guiding her gently, deliberately, onto his lap. She settled onto his thighs, and he adjusted his hold, one arm wrapping securely around her waist while the other hand came to rest on the small of her back, holding her close. "So much better than being out there."

His hand left her back, his arm remaining a steady anchor around her waist as he reached for the top drawer of his desk. It slid open with a quiet, smooth sound. His fingers fumbled for a second before closing around a small, velvet-covered box. He pulled it out, resting it on his thigh for a moment before turning it over in his hand. "Been thinking about it. About you." He slowly lifted the lid, revealing the contents nestled inside. It was a collar, made of a soft, supple material in her favorite color. Het name was stitched into it in a delicate, silver cursive script, and from a small D-ring at the front hung a tiny, polished silver bell. "Something for us. For tonight. A different kind of costume...but only if you want to."

When she gave her silent assent, a slow, warm smile spread across his lips, erasing the last traces of his uncertainty. With deliberate, almost reverent movements, he lifted the collar from its box. The small bell gave a single, soft ting as he moved it. His touch was feather-light as he wrapped the soft material around her throat, his knuckles grazing her jaw. He took his time fastening the small buckle at the back, his movements precise and careful. The fit was perfect, not too tight, just a constant, gentle pressure. The bell chimed again, a delicate, clear sound that seemed to hang in the air. "Look at my kitten, she looks so fucking perfect for me."

His other arm tightened around her waist, pulling her hips flush against his, letting her feel the hard ridge of his arousal pressing against her through the layers of their clothes. He leaned in again, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he reached back into the open drawer. His fingers wrapped around the cool, smooth leather of a matching leash. "Gonna be good for me? Hmm?" She made a soft noise. "Mmm, yeah, I know you are babe."

The click of the leash clasping the collar’s D-ring was a sharp, definitive sound. The tiny bell jingled. Adrien’s gaze was soft, appreciative. He looped the leather strap around his wrist and gave a gentle tug, pulling her in as he leaned back in the chair. It wasn't a restraint, but a connection. His free hand cupped her jaw, thumb stroking her cheek. "There," he breathed, his voice a low rumble. "Fuck, So pretty." His hand slid down her throat, tracing the collar's edge before continuing its journey, his palm flattening against her stomach, then sweeping to her side.

He shifted her, his movements slow as he found her zipper. He peeled the fabric away, exposing her shoulders and chest. He leaned in, his lips pressing a trail of soft kisses along her neck. "You always taste so good," he murmured against her flesh. His hand glided lower, dipping beneath her waistband, fingers resting against the thin fabric of her panties, feeling the damp heat already there.

He bunched up the hem of her dress, His fingers slipped into her panties. He found her slick folds, coating his fingertips with her wetness in slow, circular motions. The bell chimed softly as her breathing hitched. "That's it, sweetheart," he whispered. "Let me feel how wet you're getting." He added a second finger, separating her outer lips, pressing gently at her entrance before stroking her again, the rhythm agonizingly slow. He then pulled his hand back and helped her out of her costume and panties, leaving her in just the collar.

Adrien shifted, his own need pressing. He worked the buttons of his pants, freeing his hard cock. He took her hips, lifting her just enough to guide her. The tip of his cock nudged against her drenched folds, slick and hot. He held her there, letting her feel the blunt pressure. "Stay right there for me, sweetheart," he instructed, his voice a husky command. "Don't move just yet."

With painstaking slowness, he guided her down. He let her body set the pace as she slowly sank down on him. He began to move, his hips lifting in a slow, deep thrust. "That's it...fuck, so good," he breathed, forehead pressing against hers. He found a steady, deliberate and hypnotic rhythm, thrusting up into her.

"Just ride with me now, I know it feels good kitten. But don't you dare come until I say so, understood? Now purr for me kitty."